Kitty?
by Emurlee
Summary: A prank devised by Raoul and executed by Numair goes badly wrong.
1. Chapter 1: A Prank

Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Don't sue me.

A/N: Sick of writing angst fics. This is meant to be funny. Shush, I'm tired. =P

Raoul's grin was very nearly ear-to-ear.

"I can't believe you got me into this," Numair Salmalín muttered as he took one small spatula-full of greenish powder and put it in a goblet of wine. The powder dissolved instantly.

"It'll be fun," Raoul insisted. "Come on, even I have to have _some_ fun now and again."

"You'd better hope it's _him_ who drinks it," Numair warned, swirling the wine to make sure the powder was fully dissolved. "I don't think anybody will be happy if it's Lady Alanna who drinks it."

"I know, I know," the Knight Commander of the King's Own sighed. "I'll make sure he drinks it." He thought for a moment. "On second thoughts, put another bit in this glass." That particular glass, the mage noticed, wasn't filled with wine, but with grape juice. It would still be drank, he thought. Grape juice looks much like wine. Numair obeyed quickly. Then he tucked the small earthenware bottle into his pocket.

"Now you'll have to be extra careful," he cautioned. "Somebody else might drink it."

"I hadn't thought of that," Raoul admitted.

"I know you hadn't. That's why I told you."

"You _did_ prepare it the way I asked, right? There aren't going to be any strange side-effects?"

"No," Numair sighed, "no side effects."

"And you _do_ know how to reverse it."

"Of course I do. I wouldn't even have _considered_ doing it if I didn't know how to reverse the effects."

"All right," Raoul said, somewhat reassured. "Let's get out of here."

"I still can't believe you got me into this," the mage sighed as he followed Raoul out of the banquet hall.


	2. Chapter 2: The Prank Goes Wrong

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Heheh, yeah, that was just a teaser chapter. I don't own these characters, blehdebleh. Wish I did though. Sorry if this isn't funny… ^^;

~

The room was full of people, feasting to celebrate the birthday of Queen Thayet of Tortall. Raoul's grin grew wider as he watched his friend Gareth the Younger of Naxen grow drunker and drunker. When he judged Gary was sufficiently inebriated, he offered the other man one of the goblets laced with the green powder. Gary raised it to his lips, then paused.

"Not havin' any?" he slurred. Raoul looked slightly nervously at the only remaining goblet on the table- the second one with the powder in. Gary reached for it and handed it to his friend. "Drink up," he said. Raoul swallowed.

"A-actually, Gary, I'm all right. You know I don't drink."

"It's o'ly grape juice," Gary told him, still with the laced goblet in his hand. "I won' drink 'til you do." Apparently, Gareth the Younger was one of the few people who could tell red grape juice from red wine at a distance. Raoul's prank was gradually going down the drain.

"Numair can reverse it," he muttered to himself through gritted teeth, taking the goblet. Gary grinned broadly.

"To grape juice," he chuckled, raising his goblet. Gary had made many toasts during that particular banquet, and he seemed to be running low on ideas. Raoul sighed, and the two of them drained their goblets.

The moment the liquid went down Raoul's throat, he felt a bit odd. The oddness spread until he didn't just feel a _bit_ odd. He felt extremely odd. The table seemed a lot smaller. So did Gary, for that matter, who was looking a bit green and panicky. Raoul blinked, and the table was _huge_. So indeed were the people around him. He appeared to be quite small, still sitting on the chair. Underneath the table, he could see Gary on a chair opposite— he very nearly burst out laughing. Gary was small, and fluffy, with pointy ears and slit-pupilled chestnut eyes. He looked remarkably like a cat. A cat who was trying very hard to keep from laughing.

The Gary-cat jumped off the chair and staggered, then regained his balance and trotted over to Raoul's chair. He placed his front paws on the chair and meowed loudly. Raoul hissed and swiped out at him, claws bared— claws? Raoul's hand was somewhat furry. And clawed. The powder!!

It had only been a prank- to turn Gary into a cat, very briefly. It had seemed funny when he had first thought about it, but somehow Numair could take the fun out of almost any prank. And now both Gary and Raoul were cats.

Raoul had to admit, he was a _nice_ cat. His fur was curly, black, and very fluffy. Gary's fur was smoother, and he appeared to be a tabby. Said tabby cat mewed loudly and cuffed Raoul-cat on the ear. With a yowl, Raoul leaped at him, claws extended, and there was soon a regular cat-fight under the tables.

Noblewomen leaped up and screamed. Several jumped on the chairs, convinced there were _rats_ under the table. Two men managed to grab the two cats and pull them apart, sustaining heavy scratches in the process. Sitting near the King, Numair Salmalín looked about ready to die of laughing.

The two 'cats' were put outside the banquet hall and the door was slammed. With an angry hiss, Gary turned on Raoul and clawed at his face. Raoul couldn't help but notice that Gary's fighting skills were somewhat worse than when he was human. Well, he reasoned, Gary _was_ a rather drunken cat.

Said drunken cat then reeled and fell over, clawing the floor helplessly. Raoul mewed in a cattish laugh. Gary hissed, his tail bushed, struggling to get up. Then he sat down and licked his paw in a dignified fashion.

_-Was it you?- _he asked.

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-Was what me?- Raoul was hardly surprised to find he could actually speak mind-to-mind with cat-Gary.

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-Turning me into a cat. Was it you?-

-Yes,- Raoul admitted. _-But Numair made the powder.-_

-It's not really that funny, you know. At least you got changed too.-

The door of the banquet hall opened and a blue-clad giant appeared. "Kitty," she murmured, running a hand down Gary's back. He purred contentedly, warming to his role. "How did you get in, hmm?"

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-Walked,- Gary responded, slightly impudently. The Wildmage frowned, still stroking.

"You aren't normal cats. Where'd you come from?"

_-You wouldn't believe it,-_ Raoul sighed, lying down on his back. Daine rubbed his stomach. He began to understand why cats liked it so much. It probably wouldn't feel half as nice when he was in human form, though.

"Tell me anyway," Daine suggested.

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-I'm Raoul. That's Gary.-

Daine's mouth fell open as she stared at the fuzzy black cat.

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-Told you,- Raoul commented.

"What happened to _you_?" the girl asked in amazement, still stroking Raoul with one hand and Gary with the other. Gary purred loudly, rubbing against her fingers.

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-He_ changed me into a cat,- _the Prime Minister told her.

_-Not just me,- _Raoul protested between purrs. _-Numair mixed up the powder.-_

"I should've known," Daine sighed. "Well, how're we going to get you back to normal?"

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-Numair knows how to reverse it,- Raoul said. _At least I hope he does_, he added silently. Of course, Daine heard, and she laughed.

"Well, even if he doesn't, you're both very fine cats," she told them, still smiling. Raoul hissed quietly.

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-Not funny,- he murmured, glaring at Daine and stalking off. Gary chased him and pounced on his tail. Apparently the Prime Minister revealed his inner childishness when he was in cat-form. _-Grow up,- _Raoul growled. Gary mewed pitifully and jumped away, to promptly spring at Raoul's tail again. This time the Knight Commander moved it at the last moment, and Gary missed his target and slammed into a wall. Behind them, Daine laughed. Looking back, Raoul saw her form shift and waver, until in her place, among folds of clothing, stood a small, tortoiseshell cat with very big eyes. She trotted up to the two of them with a meow, waving her tail like a banner.

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-Nice,- she commented. _-I don't think I've been a cat that much. It's not too bad.- _Ambling over to Gary, she swiped at his nose. He yowled and jumped back, hitting the wall again. Raoul snorted with laughter, a sound that sounded very strange coming from a cat. Daine looked at him sharply.

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-Hairball?- she asked sympathetically, then laughed wickedly as she leaped out of range of Raoul's very sharp claws.


	3. Chapter Three: Could it Get Any Worse Th...

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Okay, this is really short, but since people want me to update, here we go. ;;

"Ahh!" a voice said. All three cats looked up to see a huge giant loping along the corridor towards them. "Kitties!" With one massive hand she scooped up Raoul, then took Gary and somehow, tucking the tabby under her arm, picked Daine up too. Gary hissed.

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-Shh!- Daine told him. _-This could be fun.-_

-Yes, but she's squashing me!- Gary gasped, wriggling. The maid only gripped him tighter.

"Stop it!" she demanded. "Oh, look at this mess! Whose clothes are these?" With a huge sigh, the young woman picked up Daine's clothes too, tucking them under the arm that held Raoul. He found himself with Daine's shirt on his head. The Wildmage burst into cattish laughter as Raoul sneezed, trying to shake the shirt off his head.

"Calm down!" the maid said sharply, taking the shirt off. "Bad cat." She smacked Raoul hard on the head. He yowled. Oh, the indignity of it all! Daine's laughter increased. Gary joined in, but soon was stopped when he— completely accidentally— dug his claws into the maid's side, and she slapped him too. Raoul began to join Daine in laughter. It _was_ awfully funny.

"Ohh!" The girl sounded alarmed. "Are you ill? Never mind. You come back to my rooms, and tomorrow we'll take you to the Wildmage and have you fixed up. Poor kitties…" Of course, this only made Daine laugh harder. Raoul began to wonder if she hadn't had a bit of drink during the banquet. The alcohol was showing its effects on Gary. He looked a decidedly sick cat now.

"Ooh, poor puss," the maid crooned, shifting Raoul so she could open a door. She entered her room and deposited the three 'cats' on the floor. Gary promptly fell over. The alcohol was too much for his newly-cattish system. "Poor, poor kitty," the woman murmured, picking Gary up and stroking him. Raoul yowled with laughter, startling the maid and making Daine collapse in giggles. Gary, a little more than tipsy, glared.

"Poor puss," the maid continued, still stroking Gary. "Have you had too much to drink, eh?" She said it jokingly, but that only made Raoul and Daine laugh harder. "We'd better find you somewhere to sleep." She went to the cupboard and pulled out a huge red blanket, which she lay on the floor. Gary tottered over to it and flopped onto it, purring gently. "Good puss. It's nice to have some company, you know. I don't get much company. And aren't you lovely!" She scooped Raoul up and, sitting down, petted his ears. He wriggled, not liking this too much any more. It suddenly didn't seem all that funny.

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-Someone should get Numair-, Gary suggested, his mind-voice a little slurred.

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-Soon,- agreed Raoul, struggling to get away from the woman stroking him. She held him firmly— too firmly for his liking. Finally sick and tired of her, he lashed out and caught her hand with his claws, leaving four bright gashes. She cried out and leaped to her feet, sending the black cat flying to the ground. After a moment of dizzying flight, the cat instincts took over and Raoul landed safely on all fours.

"Oh, you're vicious!" the maid exclaimed. "I don't think I like _you_." She purposefully turned her back on Raoul and picked up Daine, stroking her gently. Daine purred and rubbed her cheek on the girl, overacting outrageously. The maid seemed to like it.

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-Bootlicker,- Raoul muttered. Daine hissed at him.

"Oh, dear," the poor maid murmured. "You two just don't get on, do you? Oh, you little darling…" That last comment was referring to Daine, who had just rubbed her wet nose on the maid's hand. Raoul couldn't understand the attraction of _that_ particular gesture.

Gary appeared to have gone to sleep. Raoul sat down, suddenly very bored of the whole thing, and began to lick his paw and wash his face. The sight of this incredibly cat-like movement made Daine break out into a another fit of almost hysterical laughter.

_-Fluffhead,-_ Raoul told her with a hiss.

_-Lapdog,- _Daine retorted. Raoul glared, taken by surprise, then turned his back. It had, after all, been an incredibly insulting phrase.


	4. Apologies

I apologise for my behaviour. I shouldn't have taken my bad mood out on you.


End file.
